


Shots of War

by altertalian_doodle



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Hiroshima, Holocaust references, M/M, etc - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 15:07:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10493586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/altertalian_doodle/pseuds/altertalian_doodle
Summary: Random WW2 Oneshots. Read at your own risk.





	1. One Day More

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I dragged this off my FF account so you might have to use Google Translate for the French... Or something

1942 was a bad time for the Allies. China was locked in a bitter war with a former brother. America and Russia (or in this case, the Soviet Union) were betrayed by the countries they so much. England still couldn't forgive himself for the Dunkirk Evacuation. And France…

France was gone, left under the control of Germany.

The remaining four were at a meeting. They were already running a campaign in Northern Africa against Italy, but they had yet to fight the Axis on the European mainland.

Russia was still in a bloody Red Army uniform, from a battle with Germany in the East. America standing beside him, not bothering to change out of his khakis. They made an odd couple, former friends split by war and deaths.

"We have a proposition."

China and the United Kingdom looked up in surprise. With the current circumstances, all they could really do was help the remaining parts of France, and on China's side hold Japan back a little.

"We're listening."

"Okay, so you know how Russia's fighting his battle in East Europe? Germany's basically dominated Europe an-"

"We are suggesting that we should try and launch an offensive on the European mainland."

England heard some ridiculous things. But this quite topped the list. "B-bloody hell! Have you finally gone mad?"

"Even I have to agree, aru." Maybe people did go insane from too many battles...

"I have been fighting Germany for a year now, while you have been, ah, beating around the bush here in the west."

"Don't say it like that! What if this proposition of yours fails? Europe is _packed_ with Nazis!"

"Only God knows how many people have died defending my western half, and I have been fighting Japan on top of that. Your casualties are _nothing_ compared to mine. If this fails, try something else."

"I mean Iggy, we should take some weight off our backs, and I know you miss him."

"Of course I don't, you git!" England's ears were the color of blood. _I'm sorry I couldn't help you…_

"I've seen you gazing across the Channel with his remaining soldiers, dude. Besides, we all need to save Europe from that kraut. Hero's duty."

"Not all of us. You, England, and whoever else agrees to help."

What

"Germany is closing in on Stalingrad, so I need to defend it."

"I'm basically the only one keeping Japan fully occupied, aru."

Both eastern nations were dead serious.

"I mean, it's fine. We can get Australia and Mattie to fill in. I can convince Poland along with some other guys" Russia raised an eyebrow at that.

"Wait, hold on. We don't have enough resources to fight some placed packed with Nazis." _I'm sorry_ "This can be postponed. What if Italy decides to help?" _I just can't…Not now…_

… _Francis, just hold on a bit longer… Please. One more day._

"Yeah, fine. I guess we can put this off. But we should at least do something other than mope about France."

"I am _not_ moping about that perverted frog."

"Yeah, right. And Russia's not a commie."

"I suppose this operation can happen later." Russia cut in.

"… Yeah."

In the end, it was postponed. America and England launched an offensive in the Mediterranean instead. In a year, they successfully invaded Italy.

The Soviet Union faced a bloody battle in Stalingrad, and managed to drive back the Germans.

China was still getting his ass kicked.

* * *

In some unknown location in Nazi-occupied France was a nation, holding on to his last scraps of individuality.

_I'm fading away, aren't I? I'll just be part of Germany soon._

_Everyone left in 1940. Angleterre, Belgium, even the rest of my army._

_How much longer will the south last? Are they still there, even?_

_Angleterre_

_Help_

_Please_

* * *

In 1944 the Allies drafted their plans for Operation Overlord, named only because it "sounded badass", according to America. (It earned him a punch from England, but nobody else had a better name).

On April 6, they were on ships heading toward Normandy beach. Not Russia or China. They were the East, they fought their own battles with a samurai-turned-kamikaze. Just America, England, and what's-his–name, with a few people from the French resistance.

"Ready?" America had a death grip on his rifle.

 _You can do this, old chap. He's not gone yet._ "Let's do this."

They leaped into the roaring surf.

_Just one more day until he's free…_

* * *

Omaha.

Gold.

Juno.

Sword.

Utah.

American. British. Canadian. British. American.

So many casualties to free Europe.

* * *

"Fuck, why won't this open? I broke the lock already…"

"Try harder"

_Crack_

"-gah!"

Both America and Canada stumbled through where a door once stood, warped with disuse. The afternoon sun streamed into a room, outlining a figure trapped inside for the past four years.

"Papa!"

_It's Germany's men, isn't it?_

_They've came for me…_

France lunged at Matthew, connecting his fist with his jaw.

"Holy shit, Mattie!"

"Tu ne vas pas me prendre partout! Je refuse de devenir une autre partie de ce allemand!"

"Papa, it's okay, you're free now! Calm down!"

"Se éloigner de moi!"

"Papa-"

"Boys, let me handle this. The frog is dealing with his split personalities."

"But, dad-"

"Take off your helmets."

"The hell?"

"He's probably dealing with Germany's influence." The buckle of Canada's helmet clicked.

"Oi, Francis! C'est moi. Nous avons franchi les rangs de l'Allemagne. Vous êtes en sécurité maintenant…Francis, je suis désolé de ne pas v-venir p- plus tôt…" England's voice cracked.

"…je suis vraiment désolé… Je suis désolé que vous ayez dû attendre si longtemps… pardonne-moi s'il te plait… je suis vraiment désolé… S'il vous plaît ne pas e-être p-parti…"

" _Angleterre…"_

By then, everyone was crying to some degree. Canada choked back a sob. America pretended to scratch his nose, and discreetly wiped at the wetness rising in his eyes. England was a blubbering mess, though he would never admit it afterwards.

France's tears were flowing freely, drawing circles in the dusty floor.

Four years.

That was all it took. Four years until liberation.

No matter what happened, they always had each other.

Him and the nation across the Channel.

When he was trapped and under the power of Germany, he thought about fading away. It would've been so easy, to disappear, to leave the pain and suffering. Just to let go. But he promised himself, one more day. Wait a little longer.

"I'll never forgive you for botching my language."

"Be grateful, you frog. I risked my ass to save you."

"Hey, guys?"

America really didn't want to cut in, but "We still need to take back Paris"

"... Aye. When we get to the city."

"To the city."

_When we get to the city…_


	2. Ashes

Ashes blew in the wind, gently settling on the grassy slopes of Oświęcim. Miles away from where the bodies burned behind fences of stone and wire.

Bodies of people who ran. Spread so far and few that the only thing that put them different was the faith they brought from home, woven into an invisible web that ran through Europe.

The people of Poland.

Russia.

Germany.

Call them what you want. In the end, they all came from Israel.

The Fruhrer said they were of an inferior race. That they were poisoning society.

To be grouped like cattle and burned to ashes, and then to burn the ashes.

The Fruher said a lot of things, really.

Germany remembered the day he rose to power.

* * *

It was a bright day in Nuremberg, and the Nazi representative was elected as leader. He didn't seem much, honestly. A failed artist from Austria who spent the last war passing messages to and fro, surviving on blind, spineless luck.

To clarify, he seemed almost mad.

Swastikas everywhere, which he claimed to be the 'black sun' worshipped by Germanic tribes.

That there was an Aryan race that was supposed to be superior.

Some part in the back of the nation's mind told him it wasn't true.

* * *

_Liar. You didn't know Opa. You didn't reject a pagan belief for crucifixes and saints. You didn't return a promise you promised to keep._

He would always push it away, fearing the pain that would follow. It was many time a year ago that happened, during what was called the First Reich. He should have forgotten. More of, he hoped he would. (3)

* * *

Once upon a time, in 1930, there was a depression. After the heir of Austria was killed and a great war began, Germany held the blame.

Hitler promised to make the country great again. Pull them out of the depression, make an empire like of old.

And so he struck a deal with Russia, conquered the European mainland, and betrayed his ally.

France was so proud he never got to Paris the last time. Now, it was under his control, along with the rest of the country.

The Germany from ten years ago would've been horrified. But he was gone, in his place a Germany who wore Death's Head on his cap with pride, accompanied by a brother, a former nation reduced to paper and memories.

* * *

In the streets of Munich everyone was greeted with a _heil_. Some days, Germany wondered how many meant it, how many did it out of fear.

_Fear is the worst foundation for an empire._

Opa always said that. Those empires were sometimes powerful, some lasted for years, but when they fell, it was long, brutal and bloody.

Nations healed. Limbs grew back, their wounds would scar.

But no human of a nation returned to life. None of them would wake up one day to find their mind healthy. Terrifyingly delicate, with their country's fate in their hands.

The inevitable was, empires fell.

It may be years, or simple hours before he did too.

* * *

 _You're a coward_. The sensible part of him said, _A fool. No honorable country destroys entire generations of people. None of them betray an ally. None of them promised to return a thousand years ago and_ _ **never came back**_ _._

He paid no attention. It was his tragic flaw, really, to be a loyal soldier. He knew the SS were leaving people in mass graves. He knew that the nation may as well by ruled by madmen, that people were dying by the thousands in a frozen wasteland against a betrayed ally. And yet he stayed beside his superior, soaking his hands through with blood.

You're the Holy Roman Empire, they said. You have a duty to fulfill, to take your rightful place.

No, I'm not. If I was, I would have remembered.

_I do remember. I just don't know what to do._

Italy. His Italy. Once upon a time, he promised to return.

Once upon a time, he felt pain. Insufferable and piercing, buried so deep into his heart that even now, when he tried to forget, wanted to forget, there was a silent ache in his chest.

During the siege of Leningrad his brother stole the Amber Room. It used to be a symbol of peace between them.

That was gone, along with his friendship with the Soviet Union.

* * *

The world is swirling around me, growing madder by the second.

Maybe I am too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Danke for reading... This is probably pretty heavy... IDK, comment 'cause I don't know if this is okay.


	3. Black Rain

_I'm tired of being ignored_

That was what I told myself, back in 1931. By then I already stopped hiding, and I fought in the Great War. Then I already came out of 300 years' isolation and took my place in the outside world.

The problem was, in the time I've stayed at home, all my ties were long dead. Nobody knew who I was, or what I could do.

I am sorry for intruding, but if you have the time, please sit down, I wish to tell a story. The story of how I became a monster.

...

The year was 1931, and the West had a great depression. I was doing alright myself, which brings me to Manchukuo.

China-kun reunified himself, but he was fighting in a civil war against his Communist self. I saw it as my right to rule Asia, because he was too old, too past his golden age. That year I invaded Manchuria, who became my puppet state, Manchukuo.

1937 was the true beginning, though. China was fighting a three way war against me and Communism, and at the end of the year his capital was conquered.

…

I assume you want the whole truth...

I loved the adrenaline rush and the satisfaction of destroying my enemy, but I felt nothing but power.

I killed almost everyone there.

A wise man once said that you must work to become powerful, but you must also help your neighbors. Otherwise, they will drag you down. I lacked the mercy, and since the ones near me were dead weight, they became my empire.

A year later I made a pact with Germany and Italy. We were the Axis powers.

* * *

_1941_

"Aah, America-kun stopped exporting oil to me, I can't just keep these battles going with my own reserves."

I thought China-kun would be an easy win, him being so unstable, but he is quite stubborn. Ugh, what am I to do? Well, cutting off my oil supply when I REALLY NEED IT is unacceptable... Perhaps I should go bomb one of America-san's naval bases... That will serve him right...

But what if he joins the Allies? He is fairly powerful, and I am already trying to hold off China-kun and Russia-san. If he goes to war with me... The results would be disastrous.

_But I am running out of oil, and he just blew me off... If I plan this well enough, he will be incapacitated until I establish some buffer zones..._

My planes flew over Hawaii on the morning of December 7, dropping bombs on his ships so neatly lined up against the docks.

...

You feel a painful burning in your collarbone

_Hmm... Japan bombed me._

You pick up your phone and dial England's number

"Hello? Yeah, Iggy, about helping in this war... I'm in."

...

All those Asian countries in the south are under western control... Maybe I can get something out of it...

"Konichiwa, Indonesia-san, Malaya-san*. I apologize for intruding, but I suppose you must not be very happy under those westerners."

"It's frustrating, England takes the spices that I used to get rich from." Malaya replies

"Netherlands forces me to work in the sugar fields. I heard he wiped out the whole native population of one island, and replaced them all with slaves (1)." Indonesia shivered.

"I can help you win your independence. You see, they are currently fighting a war, it will be easy to break away with my help-"

"AIYA, aru, don't listen to him!"

"Ah, China, what-"

"HE'S GENOCIDAL, HE-"

"China-kun, please shut up. You are my territory now." I gouge out his throat. Better for him to stay silent.

"What do you say to my proposal?"

Days later the Allied forces in Malaya were defeated. I decided to kill all the Chinese people there. After all, dead people speak no truths.

Singapore wasn't very well armed, so it was fairly simple to conquer him...

Aah, England, we may have been friends, but this is war and you are the enemy. Did you know? Almost 80,000 of your soldier surrendered that day... Don't worry, they were quite useful as lab rats.

Netherlands had control over some other Pacific islands. I took those too.

* * *

As expected, America-kun declared war on me

Apparently he has more than just the massive amount of ships he had in Hawaii. I can tell he is stronger than me, but I hold my bushido very highly. It will be a great dishonor to surrender.

Aah, he took back Midway, along with more of those islands I hold so important...

Honorable samurais committed seppuku in order to avoid capture. Hmm...

There were so many people volunteering to be kamikazes, like a swarm of bees. We never go quietly, but with a hard fight and honor.

...

Your new boss orders to drop the bombs. You feel uneasy. Japan may have betrayed you, but you are launching a weapon of mass destruction on _civilians._

He won't give up, though. You know you will regret your choice later.

"Okay, let's do it."

"Alright."

You start to leave.

"Oh, and Alfred?"

"Yeah?"

"It would be best to stay away from Ivan."

Ivan. Not Russia, not the Soviet Union. Ivan...

...

He dropped the bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. I saw my leg disintegrate into a bloody stump.

So many

So many dead, and what of those still alive? Suffering.

I went to Hiroshima today. It was raining. Dark rain, burning my skin. It probably would have killed me if I wasn't a nation.

The Emperor wanted us to surrender. Before the war I would never have did it.

Maybe, maybe, I should start accepting these changes.

* * *

I met a Hibakusha on my way out of the Tokyo courthouse. My leg is still missing, so I walk with a crutch.

She had severe burns on her back, in a pattern. She said it was from the kimono she wore that day.

_Aah, from pain comes things that are both terrible and beautiful..._

China and Korea won't forgive me for what I did to them. I won't apologize. _Sometimes we are too proud for our own good._

The Sakura trees are blooming. It's time to start over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep... More heavy stuff... Thanks for reading, anyway. Leave a comment, I don't feel that comfortable writing about all this sensitive historical stuff.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment or something!


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